


I Can't Talk to People Right now

by DonovanS



Series: Mormor OneShots [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misanthrope, Short, day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonovanS/pseuds/DonovanS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mental illness was a funny thing. </p><p>One minute Jim could be typing out a million different little sequences, one zero after another, that would smash a wealthy business man’s life into a trillion little pieces. The next? The next he couldn’t even be bothered to get up and dragging himself to his laptop for his clients’ benefit seemed so utterly pointless it couldn’t even be described with human language. What was the point of living if all you had to play with was a collection of stupid sheep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Talk to People Right now

Mental illness was a funny thing. 

One minute Jim could be typing out a million different little sequences, one zero after another, that would smash a wealthy business man’s life into a trillion little pieces. The next? The next he couldn’t even be bothered to get up and dragging himself to his laptop for his clients’ benefit seemed so utterly pointless it couldn’t even be described with human language. What was the point of living if all you had to play with was a collection of stupid sheep? 

Now was one of those days and it meant his second in command was doing twice as much work as he was hired to do, along with playing Jim’s obedient, fucking servant. 

“Sebastian?” The criminal’s voice was whiny and unpleasant. Sebastian looked up from the laptop on his knees, his position on the end of the couch forced as the result of Jim’s skinny legs stretched out and his long toes digging into Sebastian’s hips. “Sebastian, I’m hungry…”

“We don’t have any food left, Jim. You ate the last of it a half hour ago.” There was no way he was going shopping again. It was Jim’s turn and he was already doing Jim’s **job,** the _least_ his partner could do was make a stop at fucking Tesco.

“Bagels aren’t food Seb.” 

“I’ve lived off bagels for weeks, Jim. I think you can go a day.”

“Order something. I want a meal.” Jim stretched his legs over Seb’s lap, his heels pressing multiple buttons on the laptop keyboard and pissing Sebastian off to no end.

“You can order your own fucking food, Boss. I’m trying to finish this shit you’ve been putting off.” He huffed and shoved his boss’ feet away. “Phones on your end table anyway, darling.”

Jim glared but his eyes softened as he moved his gaze to the mobile above his head.

“Sebastian. Just call them up for me.” 

“No. I’m working.” 

“Sebastian, call them.” 

“No, sir. I am working.”

“….’Bastian, I can’t…deal with their _voices_ today.” 

Moran looked up from the email he was writing to see Jim staring at him, a look or pure exhaustion on his pale face.

The Colonel sighed and held out his hand.

“Just give me the damn thing. I’m craving Indian tonight anyway.” 

Jim handed it to him with a smile.


End file.
